author's note: the time has finally come! They will finally meet in this, well, unexpected circumstance ! I wanna thank you guys for waiting so long for this moment, thanks for being so patient hahah I just realized how long this story is probably going to be, so I hope you linger on and enjoy the ride <3 Also this story has being helping me a lot, which I already said here, but now it grew even more important, since a dear family member passed away 7 days ago and due to corona I can't go to her funeral, that is in another town. This story means a lot to me, so thank you for giving it a chance. Please leave a comment and/or a vote if you like the chapter or/and the story!
YES WE GOT SOME TWILIGHT SOUNDTRACK IN HERE! not my fault it is too good!
Stay safe and enjoy the chapter!
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I was a quick, wet boy
Diving too deep for coins
All of your street light eyes
Wide on my plastic toys
Have I found you?
Flightless bird, grounded, bleeding
Or lost you, American mouth
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The smell of the sea and the taste of salt in Geralt's mouth went from delightful to obnoxious in just a feel hours. What he didn't realize until finally reaching Skellige seas was that his abdomen wound was starting to get infected. He tried to cure it, clean it, but that wound would only heal with some herbs, some sort of medication not located in that ship. The pain of it wasn't the worse part, it was definitely that he was starting to hallucinate a bit and his stomach was filled with nausea, something he couldn't blame the sea, since he would never que nauseated in ships. Geralt believed the Nilgaardian's sword was poisoned, which just added to the entire disgrace he was deep into.
Was it really worth it though? Going to all this, to possibly die, just to find this one girl that everyone believed was special? What if she tried to kill him as soon as she sees him? What if she is what Letus said? A cold murder, a monster with no heart, aching for blood, just like a vampire? Oh god what if she was a Higher Vampire? Geralt had a really intense hate and love relationship with those, love as a friend, hated as an enemy, because they only really die if one of their kind slays them.
When he finally fell asleep, after hours and hours of critical and emotional thinking, Geralt dreamed of Hestia once again. She was just there, sitting in front of a fire, passing her hand on the flame while quietly reading a book, pronouncing a few words in Elder, very low, very calmly. Her voice had a velvety tone, it wasn't high pitched, it fit better in a contralto kind of voice and he wondered how she would sound singing. She had a huge red mark from the neck down to her arm and he watched it, since she was wearing a sleeveless pastel pink nightgown. Her bright red eyes traveled on the pages quickly, as she had done it many times before, read countless books. Her feet were small and delicate and her legs seemed soft and tender. Geralt couldn't stand anymore and fell on his knees, right next to her, which quickly attracted Hestia's attention. She didn't have a confused look anymore, now she seemed much worried and intrigued.
"Where are you, witcher?" her voice hit him like a lightning, as her eyes gazed into his.
Geralt held his abdomen, thinking about how the poison was probably making him hallucinate about her once again.
"You have a few hours before dropping dead" she took a deep breath "if you are real at all" Hestia put her book down, crawling closer to him "aep anguis mordere hael marw sana het dh'oine antes oculos claudit" curing words in elder were pronounced, as a green spectrum started to crawl out of Geralt's body traveling all the way into her hand, but before she could finish casting the spell, Geralt woke up, hearing the echo of Hestia yelling something.
"We here, ey" a sailor said, shaking Geralt.
Geralt stood up quickly gathering his things. For some reason he felt his energy a bit better and his wound didn't hurt so much, he took a quick look at it and it wasn't so read and full of puss anymore.
"Holy fuck" he said, not knowing how to feel about the miracle he had witnessed.
It was spring in Skellige and Geralt had never been there in such season, the times he visited the Isles were in the deep winter, mostly to visit some friends. It was completely gorgeous, as the mountains still had snow on it, but the temperature was bearable and the fauna was growing beautifully. Although the harbor smelled like fish (a smell that didn't bother Geralt that much since he'd been personally affected by the smell of monster gut) the place was still breathtaking as always, with their Viking style of architecture, living, breathing, etc.
Skellige was a completely different country, with different Gods and costumes, as they work shipped gods such as Freya, Loki, Thor, Odin and others. Their main trade was based on the ocean and they were known as amazing warriors. There were many villages and farms, but there were also Earls and princesses. It was a very interesting and unique country, very different from places like Novigrad, Blaviken and Velen.
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Geralt roamed for 2 days before even considering giving up. He felt like a fool, running in circles, with every clue leading to no where. His wound started to get worse, as the spell started to worn off.
On that day Geralt set down by a river, he built his little camp there and spent the day searching for herbs that could save him, but nothing helped, not even to numb the pain. He laid by the river, putting his hand in the clear water. His entire body was shivering, even though the temperature was warm. He felt cold, not knowing if it was because of a fever of if death was arriving. He closed his eyes, exhausted, hoping to sleep for a bit, but afraid the sleepiness was death pulling him into the river.
So he shut his eyes, his mind drifted away and there she was, in the middle of pitch black, only with stars lighting up their path to each other. She was running as fast as she could, but it seemed she wasn't moving at all, since the space between them grew larger. Hestia tried to pronounce spells, but no effect happened what so ever, then finally frustration hit her, as she started to glow. Geralt closed his eyes, not being able to look at her, since it was like facing at the sun. He felt weaker and weaker as his body started to heat.
He heard a loud scream and suddenly she wasn't glowing anymore and was now by his side, one hand on his chest the other on his forehead.
"Tell me where you are!" She screamed with tears streaming down her face "TELL ME WHERE YOU ARE".
But he didn't know what to do, how to make her see.
"Let your caos flow so I can see it! Just let me s-" Hestia stopped talking, her eyes turned black and she started grunting, seeming there was no air inside of her lungs, in the end she opened her eyes and took a deep breath, gazing at Geralt's yellowish eyes "I'm coming for you, just don't die, don't you dare die".
And finally the void took in.
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The winter had come and the mountains were covered in a bed of snow. The sun tried it's hardest to shine and let the sunshine glow, but the freezing breeze wouldn't allow any heat to go through. Although the weather was freezing to the bones, the people of Skellige were used to cold winters, what would kill a Cintrian wouldn't even tickle a person of Skellige.
Hestia wasn't born there but it's been so long since she moved to Skellige that it felt like home, even for a person of fire, she dealt very well with the cold. It wasn't her favorite weather, but it was...bearable.
Hestia had moved to Skellige around 5 years ago. Her friend Serena had arranged everything for her, including a meeting with the King. Ragnar was his name and both Fiona and Serena were old friends of the Skellige royal family, which just made Ragnar accept Hestia with open arms, although he thought her name was Sabina. For her sake, Ragnar made her an entire new life, once again she was someone else, from Hestia to Sabina to Singrid. Ragnar didn't question a thing about Hestia's past, he trusted Serena and Fiona with his life and would never deny them a favor. After many years playing someone else she got used to acting, to forgetting her past and tried to live whatever life she was faking. So she became Singrid, a lost cousin of Ragnar's dead brother, which made her Earl of a very far away land, on Hindarsfjall island, the smallest one of the Skellige Isles complex.
Ragnar wouldn't question Singrid on any of her decision, she swore to defend the land he gave her and to be loyal to him and Skellige, so if she was following with her oath, everything was fine. Over the years they grew fond of each other, even though he didn't know the real here. A friendship was born out of lack of knowledge, but it was a true friendship, nights of feasts and the wedding of his daughter and son, fighting side to side on battles, in one occasion where Hestia saved him from certain death. Ragnar did have his suspicions, but he believed she was only a mage, he had no idea of the intensity of Hestia's power. However that didn't scare him, neither made him distrust her, he believed she had her reasons to keep it a secret and if maybe Nilfgaard decided to one day come for Skellige, they'd be safer with a powerful, loyal, mage by their side.
He also knew she was...different. Hestia would hire the few existent witchers to hunt monster, not to kill them, but to bring them to her home, at least the ones who weren't doing any harm. Ragnar would call her "little witcher" since she'd help all villages with their monster problems, not slaying them, but using magic and her sweet talk to make them leave. On rare occasions she'd kill, but only if she had to. Later she'd cry to her sleep, thinking about the life she took. Airin, Ragnar's daughter, the princess of Skellige, would always try to calm her down, by telling they were just monsters, explaining that we also kill innocent irrational animals to eat, but nothing would calm her down.
That's why Skellige was known for having so little monster problems. It was a very independent, unique country, that made sure to stay away from the rest of the continent and it's problems.
She missed Fiona, of course, but not so much as one day she did, since she decided to take a potion any time she'd remember too much about her past, which would made her mind stop racing and sleep reign.
Hestia made of her small castle and fort a home for the unwanted. Vampires of all kinds, cursed ones, mutants, beasts, dragons, elementas, hybrids, ogroids, people with magic in them, poor people, woman divorced, abandoned babies, if they were unwanted and willing to thrive, to become better, to be peaceful instead of dangerous, she was there for them, with a place to live.
Many people of Skellige did not like Hestia, much less her "monsters deserve to live" initiative, they'd often come to Ragnar complaining, but he'd say "it's her land, she does what she wants". Other times they's just cold murder anything they knew she protected, just to show their power, to provoke her.
When it came to hiding, Skellige was so much easier, many people there were redheads, blonds, with really white skin, so she's only had to hide her eyes, something she learned how to do over the years, using potions, spells and the rest of her paint womb, it wouldn't last forever, but it lasted through out the day, which was enough for her.
She got so confident with her way of living, of hiding, to the point that she stopped worrying about Letus, she remembered how powerful he was and the tortures she endured, but now she knew how to control her powers, she became an incredibly powerful mage, one of the bests, she believed.
Yes, she'd think about Tissaia, how proud she'd be of her, but Hestia couldn't forget how she just let them take her without a fight and that was unforgivable. Hestia had asked once for one of her friends, Katarina, a Higher Vampire that with the help of Hestia, stopped drinking human blood, to go and find Tissaia and report any information on her, but the day Katarina arrived back in Skellige, Hestia burned the report with her own hand.
Yennefer was always on her mind too, where was she? how was she? Did she miss her? Did she remember her? Had she moved on without a care? She hoped she was dead, but ended up finding out she deserted and went full rogue after three decades of serving Kings and now she had no idea of Yennefer's where about.
There was not much time for love or romance, Hestia was a very busy woman, trying to take care of her people, even though they weren't as many as the other isles, she was proud of the way of living she provided for her people.
But everything changed when she finally found Geralt, passed out on the floor, his mouth full of foam, his eyes lifeless and the slowest heartbeat she had ever witnessed. Saving him was the hardest part, it was something close to practicing resuscitation, a very difficult type of magic even for the most powerful mages. Yet, her will to save him prevailed and she was able to get him out of the woods. His blood smelled different, his skin felt human and his eyes yelled mutant, just like hers. He was incredibly handsome, at least that's how she saw him, completely mesmerized by his complexion, his defined nose, him thin mouth, his catlike eyes, his defined jaw, his thick eyebrows and especially his white snow hair, which at that point was covered in dirt and dry blood. He was huge, built like a mountain, unbelievably strong, as she never seen before and he wasn't the first witcher she'd met. He was unique, different from all man she met and that thought stuck with her, even not having exchanged one word with him.
There was something about him, a stronger power that draw her to him, as if they's known each other their entire lives, as if they played together as kid, grown together, seen each other fully and yet, they had never met. It was the strongest bond Hestia had ever feel to anyone, bigger than Tissaia and Yennefer and even Fiona, it could only come close to the feeling she had the day she stepped on Cintra, a reason she only understood years later.
She cried, without even realizing, when she held his hand, speaking words in Elder, trying to bring him back to life. He couldn't die, no! He couldn't die before she understood why she was feeling that way, he wouldn't dare to leave her before finally meeting her, how could he? After she finally felt complete, there was no way she'd let that part of her drift away.
But he didn't wake up what so ever, not for over an entire year.
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1262
It was so subtle but yet so delightful . That scent, that warmhearted smell that had been following Geralt for so long was now, real. For a moment he believed to be under some spell, intoxicated by some poisonous potion that somehow found his way into his veins, leaving his knees weak and his heart rate incredibly rapid, something unusual for a witcher, whose heartbeat is slow as a turtle. His hands felt numb, as if his blood had rushed somewhere else, that he wished not to be his heart, but it was, as clear as the day, with no clouds, no drops of rain, no cold freezing breeze. His cheeks were warm as the sunlight on a morning day, his mouth was as dry as the desert and his eyes made him believe he was delusional.
Her expression wasn't of confusion or fear or rage, which surprise both Geralt and Hestia. Her complexion showed nothing more pure than relief. She didn't know why, she had no idea why she hadn't burned the man to the ground, a killer, a beast killer, a goddamn witcher was standing right in front of her and for some reason she decided to save a fucking monster killer, but Hestia couldn't even move, much less feel that impulse that made her engage in whatever decision she was going to make. Because she wasn't moved by decisions any more, fate was getting it's way easier than it thought, as her legs started to move, slowly but steady, closer to the man of white hair and silver sword.
Finally all the tales, poems and ballads made sense, about finding what you are meant to be, who you're meant to find, about destiny doing it's deed, of how one look can change everything.
"Hello, I've been waiting for you, witcher".
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